Writer’s Block

Sometimes,
when the words get stuck,
I force them out of me
to tell the silent world
of my fear of losing;
to tell
how scared I am
of people walking out on me,
and of the loneliness
that lurks behind.
But the fickle little things
refuse to rhyme,
so I crumble up the paper
and toss it far way,
leaving myself
sitting here
without a way
to say I’m sorry,
without a way
to ask them
not to leave,
or to beg for them
to stay …

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